The Eye of Horus Affair
by MLaw
Summary: Napoleon and Illya are tasked with transporting a priceless diamond to a world famous auction house here it's to be sold. Pre-saga
1. Chapter 1

Streets lined with shops and jewelry exchanges, their windows filled with dazzling pieces. Crowded with shoppers, cops, street hustlers and courier; there was a constant state of motion.

Above and below these street level operations were back rooms where artisans toiled, cutting, polishing and sorting precious gemstones. There were more behind the scenes people, there were the graders, appraisers, designers and dealers, and lots of deals.

"Series K-7991, simply called 'the vault," Kuryakin noted as they were escorted downstairs in one of those shops in New York's diamond district on 47th Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues.

Shlomo Khazanov, dressed in a rumpled black suit and wearing a yarmulke; his peyot or side locks were tucked back behind his ears. He was the guide escorting Solo and Kuryakin along a rather incongruous red carpet.

Solo, eyeing the massive the massive vault, whistled.

"Impressive."

"Yes Mr. Solo it indeed is. State of the art."Shlomo answered.

"Alarm system?" Illya asked.

"On the vault? No, unnecessary. The building has an excellent alarm system which alerts the police. Besides this vault we keep only the _shlok_ here, the important diamonds like the …"

"Beg pardon," Napoleon said. " _Shlok?_ "

"Sorry I'm forgetting that you gentlemen are _goyim... shlok_ is trash, second-rate merchandise. "

"This is where you keep the lesser value diamonds?" Illya was impressed."Then where is The Eye Horus kept?" He could only imagine the vault for such a priceless diamond.

"Oh right here," Shlomo reached into his pocket, and in his hand was a diamond the size of an egg. "Take a look. Quite a _Mame-zitser."_

He tossed the stone to Kuryakin as if it were a merely a piece of candy. Illya caught it of course, though with a sigh of relief that he hadn't droped it. He was surprised at the cavalier way Khazanov handled the 125 carat, flawless diamond.

" _Do you always throw valuable stones around in such a manner,"_ Illya asked in Russian.

" _Da, a stone is a stone. They come and go. There will be others, God willing."_

Solo and Kuryakin both raised an eyebrow at that.

"Now Mr. U.N.C.L.E. agents, The Eye of Horus is now in your capable hands to deliver it to Southerly's to be auctioned off."

"I'd feel better Mr. Khazanov if we had some sort of case in which to keep it," Napoleon said.

"It would be less obvious in your pocket," Shlomo smiled, "but here if it makes you feel better."

The man pulled a small wooden case from his jacket pocket and opened it to reveal a royal blue velvet interior, with a depression where the diamond could safely nestle. "This I suppose will make for a nice display at the auction."

Illya took the box from his partner and set the diamond in it before closing the box with a snap. He handed it back to Napoleon.

"Well then, I guess we're on our way. Mr. Khazanov."

"Then I will say _Mazel Tov."_

A young man appeared behind them.

"This is my son Yiddel, he'll escort you back upstairs."

The young man who looked to be around fifteen years of age was dressed identically to his father; he sported a pair of dark framed eyeglasses, so large that they overwhelmed his skinny face.

"Golly you two guys are really U.N.C.L.E. agents, like in real spies maybe?

"More like enforcement agents," Napoleon smiled.

"I'd like to be an agent someday, but my father insists I stay in the family business. All day selling and talking, I can't stand it. I need a little excitement. There's got to be more to life than this? Still, it's my blood, my fabric, whether I like it or not." The boy swept his arm, gesturing at the rows of glass display cases full of gold, gems and jewels as they arrived upstairs to the street level. He laid his hand ever so briefly on Solo's shoulder as he spoke of his surroundings.

Before they headed out, Napoleon turned to young Khazanov.

"Well Yiddel take heart. When you're old enough you come look me up," he handed the boy his business card.

"Gee, thanks Mr. Solo, you're doing me a real _mitzvah._ I have to run now as my father is making _mazl_ and I need to watch him work. _Shalom."_

"Shalom," Illya repeated, saying goodbye to the boy.

The agents made their way along the sidewalks of the diamond district. People were busy moving along, no doubt many of them carrying a fortune in gemstones in their pockets, though many stopped to window shop and perhaps dream.

Just as Napoleon and Illya arrived at the silver Impala convertible parked on the next block, a meter maid in her smart uniform and pillbox hat, was in the process of slapping a parking ticket on the windshield.

"Aw come on," Illya growled. "Mr. Waverly will have our heads if Accounting tells him we have incurred another parking ticket."

"I'll take care of this tovarisch," Napoleon stepped around the car, removing the ticket from the wiper blade. "Excuse me Miss, there has to be some mistake." He smiled, preparing to turn on the charm.

She turned to face him, dressed in her dark uniform and perky little cap, but she was anything but cheerful. She was however, attractive with dark chocolate brown hair and soulful eyes.

"Ain't no mistake mistah. You parked where you shouldn't had, and that's that. Got it?"

"Well isn't there something I can say or do to convince you otherwise," he practically purred at her.

She took a step closer, jabbing her finger to his chest. "You tryin' to interfere with an official employee of New York City? That Mista can get you arrested."

"No, but…"

"I'll but you; you fancy suits think you can get away wit anything," she shoved him back, not once but twice." I have a mind to call over a police officer."

"There's no need for that Ma'am, you're just doing your job, and doing it well. My apologies,"Napoleon raised his hands, this time backing away from her. "Sorry for the misunderstanding."

He got into the car, avoiding his partner's gaze as Illya started up the engine and pulled into traffic.

"I'll be glad when we get rid of this diamond. Let's get to Southerly's as quickly as possible tovarisch."

"And risk another ticket? I think not. I will do the speed limit and follow all traffic regulations. It is less than a thirty minute drive, barring any unforeseen traffic jams."

They arrived at the famed auction house located on York Avenue and parked the car nearby right within Kuryakin's estimated time.

"We should have no parking issues here," Illya remarked." No meters.

"Thank goodness for small favors."

The two men exited the car and headed into the 10 story building. Southerly's was famed for high end deals, selling artwork by the old masters, antiquities, jewelry of the rich and famous, pretty much you name it.

Napoleon flashed his identification to the receptionist, who picked up a telephone receiver.

"Sir, Mr. Horus is here. Yes sir." She replace it in the cradle and looked up and Solo with a smile. "Someone will be right out to escort you to the Director's office. Do you have an armored car waiting?"

"Armored car?" Napoleon asked.

"For the diamond," she whispered.

"That wasn't necessary. We're quite capable of …"

"Gentlemen, welcome." A well dressed man with a carnation in a pin striped lapel greeted them. He had a distinct British accent, and resembled the actor Terry Thomas. Beside him stood two burly armed guards in pseudo police looking uniforms.

"I'm Mr. Willoughby, the Directory of Southerly's"

"Napoleon Solo and this is my associate Illya Kuryakin."

"Will you follow me to my office, as we need to conduct our business in shall we say, a bit more privacy?"

They followed him through several art galleries where there were number of famous pieces by Toulouse-Lautrec, a Modigliani, and Jacopo Ligozzi's 'Abduction of the Sabine Women,' as well as countless other examples of modern art put on exhibition before going up for sale.

Once inside Mr. Willoughby's office, they agents were seated and offered drinks, which they declined.

"Oh yes that's right you're on duty aren't you?" Willoughby nodded. "Now Mr. Solo, The Eye of Horus, if you please."

"My pleasure sir." Napoleon reached into his pocket, but stopped. He checked another pocket, and then another.

"Umm, we have a problem," he mumbled.

Illya realizing what was wrong immediately spoke up . "Yes, we have a problem with your security. It is completely unacceptable, and before we deliver the diamond to you some changes will have to be made."

"I say, changes, what changes could you possibly be referring to? No one has ever questioned our security before. Good God, man we having in our possession thousands of priceless items."

"Ummm." Illya wasn't quite sure what to say, and this time Napoleon stepped in as he rose from his chair.

"We will notify you in writing of what needs to be done before we surrender The Eye of Horus to your care. Now good day to you sir."

He and Illya quickly exited the office and the building.

Getting into the convertible, both men were flabbergasted.

Napoleon looked down the the bench set, spotting the parking ticket.

"DAMN! The meter maid!"

.

.

 **Translations:**

 **Goyim:** gentiles

 **Mame-zitser** \- lit. a mother sitter- a really large diamond.

 **Mazel Tov/mazl:** good luck

The most significant phrase on the street, and perhaps in the global trade, is mazl un brokhe — "good luck and a blessing" — which is commonly abbreviated to "mazl." It is hard to overstate the power of this oral handshake, which seals million-dollar deals without lawyers, witnesses or contracts. In "making mazl," diamantaires stake their honor (and that of their family), and the term garners near-universal respect.

 **Mitzvah:** _Literally, straight strength. Figuratively, may you have strength, or may your strength be increased. A way of congratulating someone for performing a mitzvah or other good deed. In essence, you are wishing this person the strength to continue doing this good thing, and you are also recognizing the effort that the person put into doing_ this good thing.

 **Shalom:** meaning peace, harmony, wholeness, completeness, prosperity, welfare and tranquility and can be used idiomatically to mean both hello and goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

Napoleon exhaled a deep sigh as he knew he couldn't avoid what had to be done next. It was time to contact Mr. Waverly. As he drew his communicator pen from his inside breast pocket, Illya reached over and stopped him.

"Perhaps we should return to the scene of the crime to see if we can locate the meter maid. She most certainly looked and sounded legitimate, as does this parking ticket."

"Do you really think the thief would stick around for us to come find her?"

"It was merely a suggestion," Kuryakin shrugged,"an alternative to contacting our superior at the moment until we have more of a concrete answer."

"Good thought, but why put off the inevitable." Napoleon set up the communicator with a practiced hand.

"Is there anyone else who had physical contact with you, did someone on the sidewalk bump into you?"

The only ...wait. Yiddel touched me. He put his hand against me as he was gesturing, getting us to look at all the showcases in the jewelry exchange.

"Open Channel D- Solo."

"Mr. Solo, have you delivered diamond?"

"Well, not exactly sir."

There was a distinct pause before the man responded.

"Please tell me you haven't somehow lost The Eye of Horus?"

Napoleon cringed."We didn't exactly lose it sir.

"Dash it all man will you just spit it out!"

"I had it in my pocket sir in a case given to me by Mr. Khazanov but when arriving at Southerly's it was gone. I am thinking that a little run in we had with a meter maid may have been when it happened. Maybe."

"A meter maid?" Waverly sighed.

"Please do not tell me you had yet another dalliance Mr. Solo."

"No sir, but we did get a parking ticket and when I tried to reason with the woman she became a bit confrontational as well as physical. It was my first thought that she could have picked my pocket"

"How the devil could she have known you had the diamond in your possession? Have you checked yourselves for any sort of listening device?" The man's annoyance was pretty clear.

"No sir."

"I suggest you do so, and then return to headquarters before you proceed further. Out."

Napoleon moaned." Oh boy, he's mad all right."

"Do you think so? You lose a nearly priceless diamond, what was he going to do a song and dance" Illya asked." And what do you mean by 'we'? I was not in possession of the stone and can therefore not be held responsible for its loss."

"Now is not the time to pick an argument and anyway weren't you supposed to have my back, or in this case my front. You're a pickpocket; how is it you didn't see her do it?"

"My friend, I am wondering if she did indeed do it. If the woman was able to do so, then she is the greatest pickpocket ever.. She merely poked you with her finger, and pushed you back with an open hand. There was no distraction to enable her to slip her other hand inside your jacket pocket. Waverly is right, how could she have known it was there. Are you positive it might have been her?"

"No, I'm not convinced it was her. I'm not sure what to think. You know what, you're right, let's go back to the supposed scene of the crime."

"But we were ordered to return to headquarters."

"And we will, but first a little detour."

They were back on 47th Street in no time, not far from where they'd first parked the car. And there she was, the same meter maid working the other side of the street, handing out more parking tickets.

"Excuse me Miss," Napoleon approached her.

"Well look who's back; I hope you parked legally this time?"

"I don't think that'll be an issue," Napoleon smiled.

There was a 'pffft' as Illya stepped out from behind his partner and darted the meter maid.

Napoleon grabbed her, cradling the woman in his arms and with some help from his partner they dragged her to a nearby alley.

"Hey, what are you doing to that woman? A passerby called out.

"She just fainted, and we did not want her sprawled out on the sidewalk,' Illya replied. "Do not worry, my friend here is a doctor and will look to her well being."

"Maybe an ambulance I should call?" The man replied.

"No, that's not necessary," Napoleon said." She'll be fine in a few minutes, you can go on about your business."

The good Samaritan merely shrugged his shoulders and did as he was told.

The agents quickly checked her identification found in her black leather shoulder bag.

"Theresa Moody. Age twenty-five. Five feet six, weight 135 pounds. Hair brown, eyes brown. Her face matches her photo identification," Illya announced.

"Let's double check that," Napoleon opened his communicator." Open Channel D."

"Yes Mr. Solo? How can I help you?" It was the voice of Lois Coleman. She sounded rather frosty considering she and Solo had a date only a week ago.

"Lois, hi. We need to have the identification of one Theresa Moody verified with the Department of Transportation. Is she supposed to be working a route on 47th Street?"

"That'll take a few minutes, can you hold on?"

"For you, always," he smiled, though there was no response.

Finally Lois got back to him."Yes, she's working the diamond district." She gave a matching description of the woman, plus the fact that she'd been employed by the DOT for six years and just received a promotion to supervisor as well as a pay raise.

"Thanks Lois. Are you okay? You sound a bit...well, not like yourself."

"Well to be truthful, I'm a little upset. Why haven't you called me?"

Illya shook his head, tapping his wristwatch in warning.

"Gee, I haven't really had the time."

"Oh you haven't? Seems to me you've had time with Carmen, Angela, Christine and…"

"I get the point. Tell you what, why don't we discuss this over dinner on Saturday night?"

"Really? Well, that would be nice."

"Good then it's a date. Solo out." He put away the communicator, just in time as Miss Coleman's eyes began to flutter open.

When she came to, she scrambled backwards, pushing herself away from Napoleon.

"What the hell!"

"Take it easy Miss, you're fine. Nothing's happened to you other than fainting."

"What? I fainted?" She screwed up her face." I've never fainted in my life."

"Well apparently this time you did,"Illya said."Just as you spoke to us, you swooned. Mr. Solo caught you and…"

"Why am I in an alley. Oh my God did you try to …?"

"Now calm down," Napoleon said. He pulled out his gold ID card and showed it to her. "We're with the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement otherwise known as U.N.C.L.E."

"I've heard of it, yes."

"We brought you here as we didn't think you wanted to be spread eagle on the sidewalk for the world to see,"Illya said." Now may we help you back to your feet Miss?"

"Coleman, Theresa Coleman and I guess I owe you a thank you?"

"It was the least we could do,"Napoleon flashed her a smile as she what helped to her feet.

" I feel badly the way I yelled at your earlier today. Tell you what, let me tear up that parking ticket for you."

"No, no. You were just doing our job," he answered." Now let my partner and I escort you back to the street to make sure you're all right."

After doing so, they bid the meter maid farewell and headed across the street towards the jewelry exchange.

"I presume you do not think she is culpable, since we left Miss Coleman to return to her work,"Illya said.

"My instincts tell me she's innocent."

"Then where do we go from here?"

"Back to the exchange and talk to Yiddel."

Illya cocked an eyebrow at that. "Napoleon, do you think he would disgrace his father by taking the diamond? These diamantaires stake their honor on themselves and that of their families."

"The boy expressed quite a dissatisfaction with his current life. Let's just see what he has to say tovarisch."

As they reached the exchange Yiddel was coming out the door and as he spotted them, the boy took off down the street, and they agents took after him in hot pursuit.

The problem was, the streets were packed with Hassidim and they rallied to the boy, blocking Napoleon and Illya for getting to him.

They threatened violence, enough that made the UNCLE agents back off. Heading back to their car; Napoleon immediately contacted Waverly."

"Sir, it's safe to assume that young Yiddel Khazanov had something to do with the disappearance of the diamond. As soon as he saw us, he bolted."

"The Hasidic community is tight knit one, and is very protective of its members."Waverly responded. "It will be impossible to locate the boy for that reason. It behooves us then to speak to his father and let him know the situation. A word of caution Mr. Solo, Mr. Khazanov may not take it well having his son being accused of possibly being a thief."


	3. Chapter 3

"So what are you boychiks doing back so soon if I may be so familiar?" Shlomo greeted the agents as soon as he saw them in the exchange. "Are you looking to buy a nice a diamond for your lady friend or wife? I can make you a such a deal…"

"Mr. Mr. Khazanov, might we go somewhere more private?" Solo asked.

"Certainly, my office is right in the back."

They followed the man past the many cases seemingly overflowing with black velvet trays of jewelry and once they reached the office they were ushered inside.

It was a small room, with its walls lined with cabinets with small wooden drawers. On the desk was scattered the tools of the trade, tweezers a jewelers loupe, diamond parcel papers, and several open ones containing small diamonds. There was also a Hebrew Bible nearby.

Shlomo saw Illya eyeing the desk contents. "Oh, not to worry, they're what we call melee, just small stones and not of great value. They're used as accent stones and nothing more. "

As soon as the door was closed, Napoleon spoke up.

"We have a problem, a one hundred twenty five carat one to be precise."

"Something is wrong with the diamond? Not possible. It is the real thing. Did those people at Southerly's give you a hard time? I staked my personal reputation on that stone!"

"Its authenticity is not in question,"Illya said,"but its whereabout are."

"You lost it? Oh meyn Got!" Shlomo slapped his hand to his forehead. "I gave it to U.N.C.L.E. because I thought you could protect it!"

That made Kuryakin wonder what happened to the man's earlier cavalier attitude when tossing the diamond.

"No it wasn't lost, it was stolen" Napoleon said." I'm afraid that there's more bad news. We think it was your son Yiddel who took it."

"Meyn zun?"

"Yes your son," Napoleon replied as he didn't need a translation to understand.

"What makes you think my Yiddel would do such a thing?" Shlomo's voice became louder as he demanded an explanation.

Once Napoleon filled in the details, and lastly of the boy taking off when he saw them; that was apparently enough to convince Khazanov things were amiss. The boy would have no reason to run from the agents unless of course, he had indeed done something wrong.

Illya had further questions, "Mr. Khazanov, why did you give the diamond to us to transport? Who would have known you were carrying it if you had taken it to Southerly's yourself? I am curious about that."

Shlomo's face flushed pink, and he flopped down into his desk chair. It creaked as he did so.

"Someone demanded I turn over the the diamond to them, if not, they then threatened to to kill me. I don't care about myself, and such a threat...well I have lived through worse, but they also threatened to destroy my business. I have too many people who depend upon this place here for their living. Too many familiies would suffer. "

"Why didn't you contact the police?" Napoleon asked.

"Here in our community we handle our own affairs Mr. Solo. I believed that once the diamond was auctioned, they wouldn't come after me even in retribution. A threat like that was upsetting but not that much for myself, not after what I experienced as a young man during the War."

Shlomo pulled up his sleeve revealing a blue inked tattoo on his forearm. "After the camps, nothing really frightens me."

Napoleon nodded, and stepped to the side pulling out his communicator to contact Waverly with this update.

Illya quietly removed his suit jacket and undid the button on his cuff before rolling up his left sleeve. He took his handkerchief and rubbed his forearm until a similar tattoo was revealed. It had been covered up with makeup.

Speaking softly in Russian, he told Shlomo a most private secret. "I too was in a camp."

'You are Jewish?"

"Nyet, however I was named for a man who was Jewish. His name was Elijah and he was my father's friend. The man saved his life. During the war, Nazis had rounded up the street orphans, of whom I was one, and took us to a camp outside of Kyiv. We were worked day and night, sorting the belongings of the people brought in by train to be...well, I have said enough, I think."

That bit of connection between the two men, having that tragic shared experience was enough to make Shlomo trust Kuryakin and his partner even more.

Napoleon finished his conversation with Waverly. "Mr. Khazanov, my boss asked if you could locate your son so that we might speak with him.

"A moment. I need to make a telephone call." He picked up a black rotary phone handset and a moment later he was speaking in rapid fire Yiddish." Once done he hung up the receiver.

"Yes, Yiddel's whereabouts are known. He is safe at the house of the _Rebe,_ excuse me, the Rabbi in Williamsburg. I'll take you there.

"We can use our car," Napoleon said.

They arrived in less than a half hour and the reunion between father and son was an emotional one.

"Show me meyn zun _._ I know what you have done," Shlomo spoke gently but firmly to his boy.

Yiddel didn't deny it, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He hesitated but finally drew the diamond from his pocket, holding it in the palm of his hand. It appeared even larger in the boy's hand.

"Why Yiddel, why did you take it?"

"I heard Papa, I was listening when the men came demanding the diamond from you. I thought that if word got out that it was stolen from the U.N.C.L.E. agents, then those people would leave you alone and not hurt you."

Shlomo looked stern, but gave his son a smile. " _Afn ganef brent dos hitl."_ He turned to the agents, translating for them.

"A hat on a thief burns,' meaning a thief's guilty conscience will betray him sooner or later. I think my son would have eventually confessed his crime to me."

Napoleon cocked his eyebrows as he looked to his partner.

"No harm done Yiddel," he said. "You were only trying to protect your father. We'll deliver it again but I we'll also look into the matter of your father being threatened as well. I promise."

"I guess this means I can never work for the U.N.C.L.E. huh?" Yiddel whispered.

Solo laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "Never count your chickens before they're hatched. You've got some skill as a pickpocket and Illya can attest to that coming in pretty handy at times for an agent."

"Mr. Solo how can you hope to find the people who threatened me when I don't know who they are even? Shlomo asked.

"Good question."

"I have an idea." Yiddel smiled, but he spoke first in Yiddish, "Mit a ventke khapt men fish un mit a kerbl khapt men mentshn. Meaning with a rod you catch fish and with a ruble you catch people."

"Ahh, yes," Illya nodded. "We use the diamond as the ruble."

"Use it as bait?," Napoleon smiled." We'll have to give Southerly's a call to make some advertising arrangements."

The rest of the plan was already forming in Solo's head, thank's to Yiddel's suggestion.

"In the meantime Mr. Mr. Khazanov, The Eye of Horus needs to be put under lock and key in a very secure place," Illya said.

They returned to the exchange and Khazanov's office.

"Observe gentlemen." Shlomo flicked a switch, and his desk slowly lowered into the floor, creating an opening. He hit another switch and a light came on, revealing a spiral staircase.

"If you'll follow me?"

They did so and found the staircase led to another vault. The door wasn't as enormous as the Series K-7991, they had observed earlier, but it was big enough.

"If you will give me some space gentlemen, as I need to put in the code. " There was a keypad not unlike the ones used by the Command.

The agents stepped back as requested and once the code was entered a green light flashed and the vault door slowly swung open.

"Come come," Shlomo invited them inside with a wave of his hand.

There on shelves were sitting an astounding number of diamonds in every imaginable shape, size and color. There were stones larger than The Eye of Horus.

"Why would those strangers want on the Eye," Illya asked," where there are so many larger stones here?"

"It is because The Eye of Horus is an internally flawless diamond. For a stone of that size it is almost unheard of; even the Hope diamond...once called Le Bijou du Roi is only classified as a VS1. "

"I'll have to take your word for that," Napoleon said as he had absolutely no idea about diamonds. The only diamond he'd bought in his life was when he proposed to Clara years ago, and that was rejected, as was he. Luckily he was able to get his money back. He only remembered the shape, an emerald cut and that is was a good stone. That's what the jeweler had told him. It was only half carat; that's all he could afford at the time.

"Mr. Khazanov, I have a question on the origin of the diamond, as I am unfamiliar with the name. Is it actually from Egypt?" Kuryakin asked.

"Yes, the tale is that the diamond in its original form was discovered in a little known pharaonic tomb from the Ptolemaic period between 237 and 57 BC. It was located not far from the Temple Edfu of Horus on the west bank of the Nile in Edfu, Upper Egypt. The stone has apparently changed hands many times since it was first found, and like the Hope diamond, it was finally cut to the size as it is now, revealing a stone without flaws, internally and externally."

Kuryakin swallowed hard, glancing at his partner before he asked the next question.

 **b** **oychik.** (plural boychiks) Yiddish term of endearmentfor any male with whom you are familiar. (I pushed it a little bit on this one…)

 **Le Bijou du Roi** \- The King's jewel- The jewel that eventually became the Hope diamond

 **VS1-** **Diamond grade in which** you can see flaws on and within the diamond. (not easily) with a 10X eye loupe.


	4. Chapter 4

"The men who threatened you, were they Egyptian?" Kuryakin asked. His usual cool demeanor seemed slightly different, unsettled perhaps.

"Yes they were. There were three of them and each wore a silver pendant with an Egyptian symbol.

"Another cult?" Illya moaned.

Napoleon nodded, well aware of his partner's nervousness when it came to dealing with cultists. The poor guy had nearly been mummified three times, and that was three times too many." *

"What did the pendant look like?" Solo asked.

"It looked like an eye."

Illya took a small note pad and pen from his pocket and drew a picture. "Like this?"

"Yes," Shlomo said.

"It is the symbol known as the eye of Horus," Illya announced. His face looked paler than usual when he said it.

"But wait," Shlomo said."They were also wearing silver rings, a signet with a raised symbol of a bird. Horus was a falcon as I recall, the image of the bird on their rings was not that."

Solo's suspicions had him pull a card from his wallet. "Was it this?"

"Yes, that's it exactly!"

The agents cast a concerned look to each other as it was the emblem for T.H.R.U.S.H.

"What? What does this mean?" Shlomo demanded.

"It means we could be in for a whole lot of trouble,"Napoleon said. "These people won't stop until they get their hands on the stone."

"Nor do we have any idea why they want it," Illya added.

"Does this mean anything Mr. Solo?" Yiddel held out a white scarf, and it looked to be smudged with dark makeup." One of those men was wearing this and dropped it before they left."

"Now this is getting weirder," Napoleon looked at it, after which he handed it to his partner.

"Indeed. T.H.R.U.S.H. masquerading as Egyptians? That is perplexing." Illya shook his head. Still it was a relief to think it was their usual bird brained adversaries and hopefully not another group of bizarre cultists.

He'd had his fill of those. Still on the off chance they were involved in some sort of sect, all the more caution had to be taken.

Thrushies were more often than not, predictable. People involved in cults were in general, not.

Khasanov closed the vault, and Illya observed him entering an additional code in the key pad. The man saw he was being watched.

"On this one an alarm there is," Shlomo winked.

When they returned to upstairs to the office, the diamond dealer received a phone call.

"We want the diamond. It is the eye of our god and have a right to it If you do not surrender it, then we will do as we threatened.

"I'm sorry but the diamond is going to Southerly's for auction. It is out of my hands already,"Shlomo replied.

The auction house was contacted and they were fully cooperative once they understood the situation. As requested they set up an advertising blitz for a special auction to be held in two days for The Eye of Horus diamond.

As the agents visited the auction house, large banners with renderings of the diamond hung outside the building flapping in the breeze.

"They most certainly moved on this didn't they tovarisch?" Solo nodded.

"Yes, they are being surprisingly cooperative."Illya canted his head to one side.

"Why do I hear suspicion in your tone of voice?"

"I find it odd that such a well known auction house would risk a possible theft occurring at their location. Since they are advertising the sale of the diamond, one cannot preclude that the theft could take place here. It conceivably could endanger their staff even though we will have agents in place masquerading as potential buyers. Still there is an element of risk."

"That's presuming T.H.R.U.S.H. is going to try to get the stone at the auction and not as it's being transported to the site," Napoleon reminded his partner.

"We will be bringing it ourselves, so we will know where it is at all times, and we will be escorted by a security team."

"That's the plan among other things, tovarisch. Mit zabonges khapt men feygelekh un mit matones...meydelekh."

Illya's eyes widened. "Since when do you speak Yiddish?"

"Shlomo taught it to me. It means with nets you catch birds, and with gifts...girls."

"Napoleon, why do I have a feeling there is something you are not telling me."

"Good to keep a few secrets," Solo winked." I know you understand that."

Kuryakin merely shrugged. "Sometimes they are necessary, still I do not understand why you will not tell me what you are hiding."

"And how many times have I asked you that same question tovarisch?"

Illya's nostrils flared, the only indication that he was annoyed." That is not fair. There are things, personal things from my past that I choose to share with no one. They are mine to bear and mine alone. What you are not telling me has to do with our assignment and is not the same."

Solo click his tongue. "When are you going to just trust me Illya? How long have we been partners and friends? You know there's no one else who cares about you like I do, right?"

"I do know, but my secrets are not a question of trust. They are painful memories that I do not wish to revisit. Revealing them will only elicit pity and I do not want that from you my friend."

"Maybe you should let me be the judge of that? Pity, maybe not. I just want to understand…"

"Napoleon I trust you with my life is that not enough?"

"Sometimes it's not. "

Kuryakin took a deep breath. "All right, I promise after this is over I will tell you a few things, but not all my secrets."

"Fair enough," Napoleon smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd finally chipped away at the wall with which Illya surrounded himself.

A short while later Napoleon tucked the wooden case containing the diamond in his breast pocket as he exited the jewelry exchange. Heading to an awaiting car; Kuryakin sat in the driver's seat while another agent, Bill Willis sat in the front passenger seat.

Bringing up the rear was a second car with four more agents. Together the two cars slowly pulled out into traffic with their destination being the auction house.

Traffic was a little heavy as they headed northwest on West 47th Street towards 9th Avenue. Once reaching that cross street, Illya turned onto 9th. He then turned left again onto West 46th. It was there the first signs of trouble appeared.

Twin black sedans pulled out from their parking spaces on either side of the street, blocking the lead car.

Two men with THRUSH rifles jumped out, aiming at the car as the UNCLE agents stepped out, with guns blazing. Thankfully both sides were using sleep darts, and the sidewalks were surprisingly free of pedestrians.

Illya dove to the ground as he continued to fire on the Thrushies.

Napoleon rolled from behind the open door, taking cover behind a nearby parked car and when he got his chance, he dashed to the sidewalk and around the corner, leaving his partner and the other agents to fend off the ambush.

He headed down !st Avenue towards the United Nations, and past UNCLE headquarters. Napoleon looked over his shoulder, seeing no one in pursuit and it was then he hailed a taxi with a loud whistle.

A yellow cab screeched to a stop curbside. "Where to Mac?" The driver called through the open passenger side window.

"Southerly's and step on it." Napoleon hopped in, trying to remain focused on getting there and not worrying about Illya and the others being able to catch up to him.

It took but ten minutes to arrive and after paying the cab Solo got out, and quickly walked into the auction house.

There was no one at reception, and as Napoleon proceeded, someone stepped out from behind a painting display, aiming a gun directly at him.

"Hello Mr. Solo."

He smiled his reply at first. " Hello Mr. Willoughby."

"You don't seem surprised,"the Southerly's director answered.

"I'm an UNCLE agent if you recall, and I've seen lots of things, so very little surprises me."

"Now I'll take the diamond if you please?" He waved his pistol at Solo.

"If you insist." Napoleon motioned to reach inside his jacket, intending to grab his Special. He was confident he could outshoot the man.

"Yes I do, but first old chap if you'll kindly remove your gun from its holster using only two fingers mind you, and lower it to the floor."

Pursing his lips; Napoleon complied every so slowly.

"Now drop it to the floor and slide it away with your foot Mr. Solo."

He shoved it aside, ever so slightly.

"And now the diamond," Willoughby held out his hand.

Napoleon reached into his pocket, taking the wooden case and tossed it to him.

"Thank you, now I'm sorry but I suggest you say your prayers as you are about to meet your maker. You didn't think I would let you live did you? We'll report a robbery of this well advertised diamond...thank you for suggesting that by the way. You'll simply be another casualty for U.N.C.L.E. I will tell them you died defending me from the thieves who took The Eye of Horus."

"May I ask a question first. Why did your people disguise yourselves as disciples of a cult to Horus?"

Willoughby laughed heartily at that question.

"It was merely for effect dear chap, just to frighten that Mr. Khasanov, but apparently it was not enough since he called U.N.C.L.E. to do his delivery work. No matter, I'll have the Eye now and that's all that matters."

"For one of your hair brained T.H.R.U.S.H. schemes to take over the world, I presume?"

"Oh nothing as insidious as that Mr. Solo. Actually, it's merely an acquisition for my growing retirement fund.. Though the Hierarchy does pay well, it's not enough to suit me, so a little side job like this now and then is all I need."

Willoughby opened the box, but to his surprise there was no diamond; in its place was an egg."

"What the devil?"

"Not deviled," a voice spoke from behind him. "That is it, no plan for world domination this time, and just retirement? A certain Russian spoke from behind the director, pressing the barrel of his Special against his back.

Unexpectedly Willoughby spun round, wrestling with Kuryakin. There was a gunshot, and Illya went down.

Napoleon dove for his own gun and sliding across the polished marble floor, he darted Willoughby.

Napoleon picked up the case taking the surprisingly undamaged egg out, he smashed it against the partially conscious man's forehead.

"Looks like the yolks on you."

Illya got to his feet with a grunt, holding his left arm.

"You okay tovarisch?"

"It was just a graze. I will be fine."

As Solo handcuffed Willoughby Napoleon looked to his partner with a question.

"What took you so long to get here?"

"Well we were battling it out with a few Thrushies as you recall, and then of course there was traffic. I would say that my timing was near perfect though," Kuryakin smiled. "Did you suspect Mr. Willoughby? Is that what you were not telling me?"

"No, actually it was the egg in the box instead of the diamond. I had no idea the director of Southerly's was involved.

"Napoleon. Where is The Eye of Horus?" Illya demanded.

*- Illya was nearly mummified in "The Alexander the Greater Affair" and in my two stories "The see the pyramids along the Nile Affair' and 'The Rio Affair.'


	5. Chapter 5

Napoleon reached into his pants pocket and drew out the diamond, cradling it in his palm. "Here it is." He suddenly tossed it to his partner.

Illya reached with his good hand to catch it, scrambling to grasp the stone as it bounced. He finally had it and flashed a sour look to Solo..

"That was not funny. You are not Shlomo Khasanov, and should not be reckless with something so valuable." Illya handed it back to him. "Here, you keep it in your possession."

"Hey I thought you wouldn't have any trouble handling it," the American grinned.

Illya's reply sounded much like a growl.

Napoleon called for a team to take custody of Willoughby and secure the auction house. Apparently the man had locked the staff in his office and was planning not only to abscond with the diamond, but several priceless paintings as well.

Once things were in order, Solo and Kuryakin returned to headquarters, and while Illya was seen to in Medical, Napoleon gave his verbal report to Mr. Waverly.

The Old Man was pleased with the outcome of this unexpected situation, but questioned the risk Solo took by carrying the priceless diamond into harm's way.

Napoleon reached into his pocket, taking out diamond and handed to Waverly.

"That's not actually The Eye of Horus sir. It's paste, a copy. It was a little secret that Mr. Khasanov arranged with me just to be on the safe side. Apparently he will have no need of Southerly's as he's found a private buyer for the stone. I believe it's the Shah of Iran, and they'll be handling the security for the delivery of the stone."

'Very well then Mr. Solo. I will be expecting your written report in a timely manner please. Now off to Medical with you; I'm sure you wish to check on Mr. Kuryakin."

"Yes sir. Thank you."

Napoleon arrived in Illya's room just as the Russian was putting on a fresh shirt, though moving rather gingerly. The nurse had brought in a sling, and he'd immediately tossed it aside once she left.

Solo helped him put on his suit jacket, though Illya commented that it would need repairing by Del Floria.

"Maybe it's just time for a new suit." Napoleon commented.

"What, so it can be ruined while in the field? This one still has plenty of use left in it."

Napoleon shook his head; what was the point in trying to convince his stubborn partner otherwise?

"So, you told me you were going to let me in on a few secrets from your past tovarisch. No time like the present. We have privacy for the moment before the duty nurse returns. She's in a crabby mood today; did you throw something at her? Napoleon chuckled."

"No, but I was not very pleasant to her."

"She's only doing her job."

"I think jabbing a needle in my buttock with extra zeal is above and beyond the call of duty."

"Well pal, back to the question at hand. A secret or two please? You gave your word."

"Very well. You may ask one question, though I will decide to answer it or not. If I choose not to do so then you may ask another question. I caution you; I will not answer any queries regarding my work with GRU. That remains classified." Illya sat back down on the bed, while Solo pulled up the molded plastic chair beside him.

"Okay. I know you were an orphan, but what happened to your family?"

Illya paused, lowering his head. It was an emotional question though he knew he could keep his feelings in check after all these years. He hesitated answering, but perhaps it was time Napoleon knew the truth.

" I witnessed the murder of nearly every member of my immediate family during the war. With the exception of my grandmother, eldest brother, Uncle Vanya and his daughter Anistasiya. They are all dead, of that I am sure. I could not save any of them"*

"Illya, you were just a boy. I want to..."

"Please Napoleon no pity, no condolences. It is in the past and can not be changed."

"I was going to say, I want to thank you for sharing that with me. I'm sure it wasn't easty. Knowing helps me understand my partner just a little bit better. Maybe it explains why you're always so willing to sacrifice yourself to save me."

Napoleon was deeply touched and he found it heart wrenching that Illya witnessed most of his family die. He couldn't imagine a little child experiencing such a thing. There was no need to say anything further about. It was best just to accept what Illya had shared with him.

"You are my friend Napoleon, but you have also become more so like a brother to me. You are the closest thing to family that I have in this world."

Napoleon offered his hand to Illya and as Kuryakin accepted it he was pulled into a bear hug.

"Hey, we hug in my family tovarisch. Now come on,"Napoleon deflected the emotional moment." I think it's time for lunch. The Commissary is serving lasagna today. I gave Cookie the Solo family recipe so it should be 'delizioso' as we say in Italian. Better put on that sling or Nurse Grouchy will be after you."

"Good idea. I will remove it once we get to the Commissary. Lasagna sounds quite appetizing right now."

"I figured you'd like that," Napoleon gestured towards the door as Illya slipped his arm into the sling.

As they walked past the nurse's station, Nurse Grouchy, whose name was actually Dourly, called out. She was a pretty woman, with strawberry blonde hair and gorgeous green eyes. It was a shame she always seemed to be in a bad mood, and hence her nickname.

"Excuse me Mr. Kuryakin. You need to sign a release form."

"Since when?" Napoleon asked.

"New policy. We have so many of you agents sneaking out before your treatment is completed; signing the release gives us a record that you've left...legitimately. You people taking off while not fully recovered has been causing us nurses problems with the Section head and of course Mr. Waverly."

Illya curled his lip in displeasure. "More paperwork in the life of an agent."

He scrawled his signature and carefully laid down the pen.

"Hey, it's more paperwork for us nurses too you know. It's not easy for us to be dealing with you agents who think you're above following procedure when we're only doing our jobs to help you recover from your injuries. You could be a little nicer to us, you know."

Illya's face flushed pink." You are right, and I apologize for my unacceptable behavior. I will endeavor to be more cooperative in the future."

"Thank you Mr. Kuryakin. That's all we ask."

"Nurse Dourly, please call me Illya?" He actually smiled at her.

She blushed, "And you can call me Anne. See that wasn't so bad was it?"

"No, it was not. Have pleasant day, and thank you for your excellent care."

As the two men headed into the elevator, Napoleon clapped his partner on the back.

"You had her eating out of your hand Illya. You should have asked her out. She's a good looking woman, and I think she actually likes you, though why, I haven't a clue."

"No thank you. My being kind to her was enough."

"Your loss then. Maybe I'll ask her out."

"I am surprised you haven't done so already." Illya pressed the button for the floor on which the Commissary was located.

"She was a bit too scary, but now that you've soothed the savage Nurse Dourly, I think I have a chance."

"You are welcome. It is all in a day's work." Illya chuckled as the elevator doors closed.

* from my story "Beginnings"


End file.
